


That (fucking) third button!

by Malefistache (Swan3ills)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Swen, swan queen - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Fingering, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5655265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swan3ills/pseuds/Malefistache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s council meeting but Emma can’t focus because of that *evil thing* that continues to stare her in the eye, daring her to use magic and defeat it once and for all. Her enemy is right before her but there’s nothing she can do about it— at least not yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That (fucking) third button!

**Author's Note:**

> I’m trying to fight my writer’s block and what best way to do so than by writing #porn? Mwuahaha! Naughty, little ficlet. Established #SwanQueen.

 

 

 

Council meetings were boring; those were _no_ news. What had Emma on the edge of her seat during the meeting was _that_ unexpected *third* straining button from Regina’s blouse. She was _almost_ used to the visual of the *second* straining button of _promise,_ but not to a third, shameless, mocking button that was _staring her_ in the eye. Daring.

_Pop me open,_ she could swear she heard it speak to her.

_What. The. Hell._

She groaned, and then brought a chocolate chip cookie to entertain her hungry mouth.

Emma continued absent-mindedly tapping the heel of her boot on the marble flooring, annoying more then a few of the crew that made this modern-time kingdom’s rulers. Her father looked at her, curiously; her mother first looked at her, then at where the blonde was staring, _squinting_ — edge on her seat as if to get an even closer look — and sighed heavily, mortified at the lack of subtlety from her daughter.

_Ogling the Mayor_ , nothing new.

Spring festivals were fun, however, the planning and Regina’s logistics of them were _not._ Everything must be perfect and carried out in the way her Majesty wanted, dismissing Mary Margaret’s suggestion to let the dwarves help with _whatever the crap_ they were talking about— Emma’s mind wasn’t with them this moment, or the entirety of the reunion.

No. It was on that hint of cleavage: the valley where she loved getting lost with no return. And Regina didn’t make it any easier for Emma to concentrate on her speech, rather than on her heaving chest; breathing deeply, more than what you would consider ‘normal,’ but still just a slight difference that only someone who knew this woman well, would notice the change if you paid attention—which Emma certainly did. _Always._ And even Mary Margaret after following her daughter’s eyes to see the source of her discomfort: Regina’s bosom.

_Sigh._

A wail. Baby Neal was upset, probably just as bored as everybody else forced to be there.

_An opportunity._

“Regina, _can_ we have a small break.” It wasn’t a question; Mary Margaret was snappy. Bothered.

_Was she slightly flushed too?_ Regina chose to ignore it. Well, she _knew_ — she had a wild guess from where her blush come.

Mary Margaret had known of her daughter’s feelings toward Regina for a long time before even _they_ realized it, but it was a bit flustering to see her daughter look at Regina like a lioness ready to pounce on her meal, and Regina was _no_ innocent prey either. But even if they were now together, it still felt strange to see them _lust_ for each other. Snow White may be an “idiot” but she wasn’t _stupid;_ their _dance_ — their flirting—right now was evident to her. And deep down she was a little jealous because she couldn’t remember the last time she and her husband looked at each other with that simmering desire.

_Did we ever?_ Darn it— the things these two women made her think about!

With a flash of white teeth, Regina granted “Fifteen minutes.”

The dwarfs were the first to leave the room, then Blue and Archie, followed by Mary Margaret and David with their little boy. But Emma was still sitting on her chair, looking intensely at Regina who was turning her back to them as she walked over to her desk to leave some folders she was carrying.

Feeling Emma’s eyes on her, Regina continued pretending to be arranging the files on her desk, _almost_ innocently.

“Ms. Swan. Please close the door behind you as you leave.” Regina smirked a smirk Emma couldn’t see but could hear in her voice tone.

Emma rose from her seat and strut her way to Regina’s side. Coming from behind her, she pressed her front to Regina’s back as she began to softly speak behind her ear.

“Don’t _Miss Swan_ me, we’ve been through _too_ much. _So_ much in fact.”

A throaty chuckle, and then a raspy voice answered “And what are you going to do to prevent me, _Miss Swan_?” Regina closed her eyes and relished in the warmth emanating from Emma’s body pressing closer against her.

The door suddenly shut behind them with magic— Emma’s —and Regina bit her lip in anticipation.

_Oh._

“I will do what I do best,” Emma smirked this time. “Bend you over this fucking desk.”

“Emma, this is _not_ the mome—” Emma didn’t give enough time for Regina to finish her line.

Before she knew, she was handcuffed; hands behind her back as Emma shoved her to the front and held her down over the desk with her left hand.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you.”

“How convenient,” Regina argued, but she was very aroused by the dominance.

She loved getting Emma riled-up like that, but she didn’t expect her dear Sheriff acting on it _this_ quickly. In her mind, she thought Emma would let her pent-up lust free when they got home, not even making it to the second floor— _or the stairs,_ most likely fucking right there in the foyer _._ Henry was at a friend’s house for the weekend before vacations started, so they had the house all for themselves.

_But the office?_ That definitely was no safe ground. _Perfect._

“If you say 'Miss Swan’ again, I will make you cum so hard everyone in the building will hear you cry my name.”

_Tempting._

With her right hand, Emma rode up Regina’s pencil skirt and caressed her ass over the smooth black pantyhose, grinning smugly at finding her woman wearing no panties underneath that.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, _Madam Mayor,”_ she said behind her, and with her knee she made Regina’s legs ajar, “wearing your top this way, leaving _nothing_ to the imagination.” Her finger slid down the crack of her ass and stroked Regina’s warm center, which was growing more humid as she could feel through the thin fabric.

_So fucking hot._

“Mmm…” Regina moaned. She was craving to feel that finger deep inside her.

“ _Miss Swan…”_ The brunette sealed her fate.

Boiling. Fire burned in the pit of Emma’s stomach and the Sheriff brought her hand to Regina’s front and shoved it inside her pantyhose; the tip of her middle finger parting her lips, circling her engorged clit, making Regina bite her lip harder so she wouldn’t get too loud— not yet at least. Sure, Emma could _try,_ but could she succeed? _Fuuuck_ — there was a possibility.

Panting and squirming as Emma continued stimulating her, teasing her hardened clit as her knees became wobbly, Regina found herself in trouble.

Just the way she liked it: hard, messy, and reckless.

The folders on her desk ended on the floor, as did her pens and the post-it notes. Emma turned her around then, and with her strong arms she lifted her from the floor and sat her on the desk. She pulled her pantyhose down to the knees and dipped two long fingers inside the Mayor.

“ _My_ Majesty, I will fuck you senseless.”

Regina balanced herself with her hands behind, on the desk, while Emma vigorously pumped inside her. She was so slick, _so hot,_ it was impossible to fuck her gently— especially not with Regina rocking her hips against her hand so eagerly, throwing back her head for Emma to bury her face in her neck to kiss warm, perfumed skin.

“Making promises you can’t keep?” Regina teased her, vanished her pantyhose completely and hooked her legs behind her hips and pulled her closer, coaxing her to fuck her harder.

“My, you’re insatiable,” the blonde woman groaned against Regina’s throat as the brunette conjured up a strap-on for her lover.

Emma slowly dipped her handy tool inside that warm, slick, velvety cunt. She then released Regina from the handcuffs so she could wrap her arms around her neck for support as they fucked. Regina growled in pleasure, hands messing up Emma’s hair as their hips moved together. It was such a delicious rhythm, made even better when Emma claimed crimson lips in a sloppy kiss, muffling Regina’s moans and growls of pleasure.

“Cum for me,” she said as she made a slow, deep thrust, and another, and more.

_Sweet fucking Swan!_

Regina felt a powerful orgasm build and come crashing through her body.

“Em-ma!” She groaned the name louder than she intended, but she had been cautious enough to seal the office with a spell that would enclose their noises.

Tumbling in her lover’s arms, she let her forehead rest on Emma’s shoulder. Then they heard footsteps coming closer in the hallway. Time was up!

_OH HELL NO!_

Emma's eyes opened widely in fear of getting caught with her hand inside the _cookie jar_ — more like her _*special*_ appendage, inside Regina. But Regina pushed her away from her like she was the pest, and quickly adjusted her skirt while Emma picked up the folders and pens from the floor.

"Whoa! Strap-on." Emma quickly made it vanish with magic.

"The post-its," Regina pointed. Emma saw them behind Regina's high-heeled feet and knelt to try and reach them. Bad idea.

"Emma, wait—"

Snow opened the door to the magister's office and they saw Emma knelt on the floor, eye level to Regina's crotch, and Regina holding her blonde head as she tried to make Emma move to the side, all the while her face was flushed in a healthy color, very uncharacteristic of the brunette.

_Busted._

"Are you _fucking_ kidding me?" Mary Margaret cussed for the first time. "David."

"Post-its!" Emma showed them, but nobody would really buy it.

"Young lady, you're grounded!" Emma's father raised his voice.

"It's not what you—" Emma tried to argue, but her face was so red, it easily gave her away.

"I can explain," Regina tried to intervene.

"I'm sure you can." Mary glared. "You too are grounded."

The pisie-haired lady nodded her head in disapproval, but a tiny smile appeared in her lips as she turned around to leave the office.

"We'll resume tomorrow. Now go cleanse your souls."

Mary Margaret and the rest left.

Regina turned to Emma, surprised. "That went… well. Could've been worse."

"Yeah… Now they know what *I* felt that day they were making _tacos._ "

Regina chuckled. "Okay. Let's go cleanse our souls with a _hot,_ bubbly bath then." She arched a suggestive eyebrow.

"Oh, yes. _Fuck_ yes."


End file.
